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In a plot twist that many of us would get down on our knees and pray will happen to us, Jessa and Marnie almost have a three way with Chris O'Dowd (Bridesmaids, Friends With Kids). Ah, but if only his character hadn't been such a respectful, albeit somewhat sexually conservative, gentleman when presented with the opportunity. Just kidding! He is a total creepfest, like 98% of the male characters on this show. "No more excluding me, Mary Poppins," he shouts at a glowering Jessa when she rebuffs his advances. "What are you doing with a fucking bowler hat?" Oh, I didn't realize Girls takes place in the same universe as American Psycho. Makes sense. Good-bye, nonterrifying ménage a trois! I miss you already!

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Meanwhile, the shot of Hannah's bedroom floor covered with Magnums that kicked off the episode almost made me scream. Not because ew and filth, but because I knew instantly that we would be spending yet another week slogging through the stagnant, stained-sheets world of Hannah and Adam's relationship limbo. Not to be overly dramatic, but I would rather have my liver eaten everyday by vultures for eternity then continue to watch their infuriating quasi-relationship. Maybe getting us to viscerally feel the hazy middle ground of romantic uncertainty is the point of their plot line, but, my god, their relationship is the worst. AND THOSE USED CONDOMS ARE JUST ON THE CARPET, PEOPLE. Just tossed willy-nilly to spatter wherever they may. I have half a mind to throw up and then . . .

And then Adam and Hannah wrestle around in bed all adorable-like and Girls just REELS ME BACK IN. My moods about this show are like the wind. I feel like watching Girls is like being in a long-term relationship; the easier it is for you to forget the slights of the past, the easier it is to enjoy. For example, whatever happened with Hannah's cervical scraping? We will never ever know. And I'm okay with that, because I am with this show for the long haul (i.e. at least until the end of the season).

On the other hand, when the show does choose to carry over plot lines for more than an episode, it pays off. I laughed out loud when they cut to Marnie weeping over Charlie's Facebook photos and listening to Demi Lovato's "Skyscraper," all the while accidentally eavesdropping on Adam and Hannah's hot pork sesh. We even get to hear Hannah have an orgasm, so I guess that bidness about sex being a pleasure-less free fall into the abyss wasn't the whole picture. Which is good, because Mary Gaitskill herself would have winced at some of those scenes. Thank God for small wonders, right? Speaking of small wonders, did Shoshanna fall into a tailspin of addiction after smoking crack last week, thus resigning herself to a life of quasi-homelessness and nonsexual massage-based prostitution? We have no idea, because she's not even in this episode. I hope she's off studying to be a brain surgeon.

So while Marnie cries over Charlie's decision to take his new lady, Audrey, to Rome, drowning herself in despair and sweatpants over his Facebook account, Hannah is busy falling in love, going on runs with Adam, convincing him to eat frozen desserts ("I don't do ice cream," he says with a cringe. "It's like sweet mucus."), listening to him give Marnie surprisingly good break-up advice. "Hannah, don't minimize," he chides after she riffs on Charlie. The only issue? Dude is weird. "He was taking a shit and drinking milk at the same time," Marnie reveals to Jessa, musing of Hannah, "She's never had a normal boyfriend that's not gay." Not that Hannah minds. "No one's ever taken me to their tech rehearsal before," she beams as Adam escorts her to sit in on his two-man show. WOMAN, YOU DO NOT HAVE A JOB. YOU ARE JOBLESS. You should be home hyperventilating and watching Photoshop tutorials on YouTube, but I digress.

Adam's play seems to be good (I guess?) until his partner-in-art Gavin (played by the excellent Henry Zebrowski) goes too big with his "wigga in a canoe" scene, and Adam cancels the show in a huff. "I invested $2,000," Gavin pleads. "You didn't invest anything." Sniffs Adam, "I invested my time. " CAN'T I BE ALLOWED TO FEEL . . . THE SAME THING . . . ABOUT THIS GUY . . . FOR . . . TWO SECONDS? "It's for the best. I need to work on my boat," Adam fumes as they storm out of the practice space. Oh, and then Adam explodes in a rage, shrieking and pounding his hands on the hood of a car that stops short in front of them. Oh, and then Adam pees on Hannah in the shower, laughing maniacally as she howls in disgust. While the surprise of Adam appearing behind her like some kind of shampoo-dispensing incubus was a delight, it looks like he might have one too many salvaged wood skeletons in his closet. On the other hand, he does dress himself and Hannah in matching thermal underwear onesies, which she begrudgingly wears while reading . . . a book, not the Internet for prospective jobs! If you think I'm going to eventually let this go, you are tragically mistaken!

To make up for being the way he is, Adam wakes Hannah in the middle of the night and takes her on an adventure. It turns out he put up a wall of apology posters to the car he yelled at (I cannot)(Well, I could but I chose not to) and has decided to do his play after all, at Hannah's behest. They run home through the night to have sex and then starve to death eating a diet of hopes and dreams and rainbows because they have no money for food. Which is basically what being in your early twenties is like, but man the job thing is gnawing at my brain like an angry marmot. A job is not some throwaway plot point like maybe having cervical cancer! Also, not to force an analogy, but is Adam basically her Mr. Manic-Pixie-Dream Big?

But back to the almost three way! In the spirit of abandoning her roll as the uptight friend, Marnie finds herself kissing Jessa on O'Dowd's $10,000 venture capitalist rug after meeting him in a bar. "That isn't fun for me, you know? Being the uptight girl," she had whimpered earlier. "Sometimes being in my own head makes me want to cry." Girl, you should see the stuff outside your head sometimes. It's ain't that great either. To whit, when Marnie and Jessa make it clear they aren't actually going to bone him, O'Dowd delivers a Patrick Bateman/Death of a Salesman mashup diatribe which sadly isn't too far off from the opinions expressed by a select group of furious gentlemen, at least if Internet comments are to be believed. "I wanna be balls deep in something," he shouts. But like all attempts to scream-argue people into wanting to have sex with you, O'Dowd's fails, and the girls are able to beat a hasty retreat without being chainsawed into pieces and used to make the last payment on the house. "Just so you know, I'm going to eat her cunt on the sidewalk," Jessa spits on the way out, tossing their uncontrollable female sexuality in his face. As it should be. Unfortunately, as Marnie explains, "I'm not gay. I just wanted to be free." Free and clear! Free and clear! My god, where is Elijah right now? Where is that right hand of avenging justice when we need it most?